


Let Me Tell You Something

by Too_Fargone



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Love Confession, M/M, Oneshot, cute gay hitman bbys, cutes, kiss kiss kiss, not sex, numbers rly likes wrench its cute i love them, probably barely 1000 words but whatever, this pairing is death, wrenchers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_Fargone/pseuds/Too_Fargone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Numbers can't sleep, and he wants Wrench to know something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Tell You Something

Let Me Tell You Something

 

Numbers feels safe with Wrench. After all, they've been partners for years now. You couldn't be constantly in dangerous situations without growing at least a little fond of the person who you were working with. The leader of their syndicate had tried separating them after their first job together. He'd wanted Numbers to do a job alone, and had something he thought might suit Wrench. But Wrench refused to work with anyone else...and after working alone for the years before that, Numbers was glad that someone wanted to work with him. It was a lonely type of employment, but it didn't have to be. It was pointless arguing with Wrench, so they'd worked together ever since. Numbers had even taught himself ASL during their second job together. Pointing at things and writing in a notebook had become considerably inconvenient. He still wasn't perfect at it, but their communication was strong, none the less. They knew each other now.

But it's not just a feeling of safety. It's a partnership, the two of them together.

Numbers is sitting up on his unbearably uncomfortable motel bed. He looks at Wrench, across the room, asleep in his own bed. _How the hell can he sleep on a mattress like that?_ He frowns and laughs softly.

He can't sleep, no shock there. It's not just the mattress, they're between jobs right now. They just finished one a day ago and would have two wait probably two days for their next call. It all makes Numbers think way too much. He would usually play his guitar in a situation like this. Numbers loves playing the guitar; as much as he enjoys being with Wrench, sometimes he just needs to have alone time. The easiest way to do that, while still staying near his partner is music. Playing the guitar is just like having alone time, because Wrench can't hear it. Right now, though, he doesn't want to play the guitar.

He's still looking across at Wrench. Still wondering how in hell even a big idiot like Wrench could possibly be asleep. Numbers swears he can feel a spring sticking into his leg. Maybe it's just him. Maybe he got a dud mattress. Maybe Wrench was immune to it? What's his secret? Numbers frowns again.

It's not even just a partnership. It's so much more. Numbers would trust Wrench with anything, his life included. He had on several occasions. He knows Wrench feels the same. They are best friends, but even that doesn't describe it.

He shifts on the mattress, but it only seems to make it even worse. Yeah, that's definitely a spring digging into his thigh.

Wrench is on his side, facing away from Numbers, breathing in and breathing out. Numbers watches as his body and the blanket rise and fall over and over again. It's a nice feeling, knowing there's another human being, alive, just a few metres away. It's even better that it's Wrench. He wants to tell him, he decides suddenly. Wrench has a right to know. Maybe it's the lack of sleep controlling his thought process, whatever it is it's making Numbers think way too much. It's making him roll up the paper flyer from his bedside table, for their cheap motel into a ball.

He throws it across at Wrench, but before it hits him, Wrench has turned around and caught it in the air. He sits up, and throws the paper back at Numbers. It hits Numbers in the face, but he's too busy staring at Wrench to notice.

He starts to sign, and ask how Wrench knew he'd thrown it at him. But Wrench is already telling him.

'Vibrations, through the air. I could feel it.'

Numbers narrows his eyes at Wrench, shocked, but very impressed, 'You weren't asleep?' He signs.

'How could anyone sleep on a mattress like this?' Wrench signs back.

The confused frown falls away from Numbers' face and is replaced with a smile and he's laughing loudly. When he looks back, Wrench is smiling at him.

'I like it when you laugh.' Wrench tells him.

Numbers looks at him. Wrench has never said anything like that.

'You can't hear it,' Numbers signs.

Wrench doesn't need to sign anything to reply to this, he just shrugs. It doesn't matter. They both know what the other one is trying to say.

The two of them sit, looking across at each other for a few seconds, before Wrench signs something.

'Your hair looks stupid.'

Numbers glares at him, then remembers that he had a shower before going to bed, the wax was washed out of his hair...he runs his fingers through it and it waves under them and a bit falls over his forehead. He laughs again. Wrench is right.

'Stand up,' Numbers signs to him.

'Why? It's cold.'

'Because my bed is uncomfortable, and so is yours. So just stand up for a second. It'll be easier.'

Wrench rolls his eyes and stands, crossing his arms across his chest. He's wearing a singlet and track pants. The temperature is too low for anything less. 'What is it?' He signs to Numbers.

Numbers stands as well, he's in a grey t-shirt and boxer shorts. He momentarily considers the fact that if he had worn long pants he probably wouldn't be sore from where that spring had assaulted his leg. The thought goes away, he's looking up at his partner and he doesn't care anymore.

'What?' Wrench signs again, still waiting for a reply.

Numbers smiles then signs, 'Do you really think my hair looks stupid?'

Wrench looks confused. Is Numbers kidding? He made them get out of bed for this? He tells him, 'Not as stupid as that beard.'

'I'm not the one who wears a fringed jacket,' Numbers signs and smirks.

Wrench begins to sign something to defend his jacket, but Numbers grabs his hands.

Wrench looks at him, with his hands held he is silenced. Numbers looks up at him, and his smirk turns to a smile, he lets go of Wrench's hands so he can speak if he wants to. But Wrench doesn't want to. Instead, he reaches out and touches Numbers' hair, 'Stupid,' he signs to him as he moves his hand back.

Numbers goes to reply, but this time Wrench stops him, doing exactly what Numbers just did and taking his hands. He shakes his head at Numbers. Numbers can't believe how silent it is without them signing to each other. He looks at Wrench, his best friend, his partner...really just everything. The only person he trusts, the only person that makes him feel like  **this.**

Wrench looks back at him and even without words they both know. They don't need to tell each other anything.

When, after standing hand in hand for what feels like decades, they finally kiss, it's like a weight has been lifted from both of them. Wrench puts his arms tight around Numbers and Numbers pulls his partner closer. Numbers feels his breathing getting shaky; it's not nerves though. It's relief. Wrench's lips, on his own, it's a feeling of safety that could never be matched by the walls of a cheap motel room. He knows the other man so well, and the way he runs his tongue over Numbers lips, like he's done it 1000 times before, it's so completely him. Them. With their mouths, warm and interlocked, and how they are standing, holding each other, they don't need words anyway.

They pull away, Numbers smiles and Wrench just looks at him.

They don't need to say it, but they do.

'You know I love you,' Numbers finally signs.

Wrench nods, then signs back, 'And you know I love you.'

Numbers smiles sleepily but he doesn't want to go back to that mattress yet so he puts his arms around Wrench again, and leans his head on his chest. Wrench holds him and he smiles. He's never felt so necessary, in his life. Trust Numbers to do this to him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: 
> 
> Sorry It's 2am I just needed to get that out of my system.
> 
> Also I highly recommend listening to Adam Goldberg's band 'The Goldberg Sisters' It's not really a band it's actually just him (and his identical, imaginary twin sister Celeste). He's got serious talent so if you like strange but comforting sounding psychotropic music with fluid instrumentals, repetitive percussion and high pitched vocals then have a listen. Seriously he's brilliant.
> 
> Anyway thanks for reading!


End file.
